


regret

by Noa



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Dersecest - Freeform, F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:18:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noa/pseuds/Noa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They stand side by side in front of The Tumor, with nothing to do but wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	regret

**Author's Note:**

> [♫](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fpI2PPRAM4)

He wants to kiss her, but he doesn’t.

Dave expects Rose to feel more for punching him in the face at the moment, regardless of whether or not she’s actually aware of his infatuation with her. Dave isn’t too happy with their current situation, either.

He’s never felt such relief at being stabbed through the chest, as he did the moment he woke up on Derse. Rose’s presence had been reduced to a violet fleck across the starts, but it shone bright enough to follow, so he did (he would have followed her anyway). She didn’t say a word when he arrived, she just looked at him, expressionless, as he stepped up to follow her all the way into death. Dave didn’t know if his choice had been the right one, but he knew Rose didn’t deserve to die alone. No one does. He looks at the timer as it counts down.

He hates doing the right thing, but he hates it even more when Rose insists on doing it instead. She flings herself at danger like there’s no one around to care, and her persistence in doing what (she believes) must be done pisses him off. He wonders if it would have been different, had she never been forced to see her life as a line- as a thread with which he spins the time.

“Hey Rose.”  
“Yes, Dave?”

They stand side by side in front of The Tumor, with nothing to do but wait. Their voices don’t even come close to filling the void around them. It’s cold.  
  
“Think you can promise me something.”  
“That depends.”  
“Don’t do this again.”  
“Do what, exactly?”  
“Plan a self-sacrifice tragic enough to earn its own movie license.”

She replies without missing a beat.

“Very well. I’ll make sure to strive for something less cinematic in the future.”

He resists the urge to scream in frustration- this isn’t just a battle for the limelight. He wants to tell her that she’s not alone, that they need her, _Dave_ needs her, needs her for so much more than just beating a game. He needs her to never try going where he can’t follow, again. He opens his mouth, but the words get stuck in his throat, and he ends up choking out a ‘cool’ instead.

For once, Dave hopes that Rose psycho-analyzes his reply enough for her to hear what he failed to say. She glances at the digital clock.

“Not that it matters much. We have an appointment with death in a matter of minutes, and reliable sources have informed me that he is a very punctual host.” There is a subtle waver in her voice, and it draws him to look at her.

She stands solid, unshaken, and where others may have concluded she isn’t showing a single sign of worry, Dave sees the way she balls her fists. He notices she’s breathing through her mouth.

“Are you scared.” His question holds no judgment, but interest; an offer to drop their usual charades as they spend their final moments together.

“I’m not certain.” She takes the offer. He watches her hands relax by her side. “Watching a bomb the size of a small planet count down before your very eyes is more than unsettling, though. And you? Are you afraid?”

Dave barks out a laugh, and the sound of it is so unnatural, that he catches himself off-guard; Rose raises an eyebrow at the display. Dave coughs, and pushes his shades a bit further up the bridge of his nose.

“I’m fucking terrified.” He admits.

Rose nods sympathetically, and it’s not fair. Dave is there to support _her_ , not the other way around.

“This must be the last way in which you envisioned yourself to die.” She seems pensive for a moment, and her fingertips briefly touch her lips. “Our proximity to the epicenter of the blast should secure us a quick and painless death.”

“Sweet.” Dave replies.

He hasn’t even considered the possible pain of being blown to pieces. It’s not important. Dave’s worn his blood on the outside of his skin too many times for it to threaten him now. As far as dying goes, looking at it from an aesthetic point of view, this will probably be his coolest exit yet. It occurs to him that he should’ve kept a notebook around to log and rate his various deaths. What a regret to have. Rose looks at him from the corner of her eyes.

“I find it tastes rather sour, myself.”  
“Are you still angry I followed you.”  
“I was never angry.”  
“Right.” Dave rolls his eyes. “You just passed through frown town on a tourist trip to mildly displeased city.”  
“I’ve always wanted to visit there.”  
“So my blatant disregarding of your final wish isn’t enough to invoke your wrath then.”

She sighs softly.

“Your commitment to denying me my mission didn’t come as much of a surprise.”  
“Suicide mission.” Dave comments. “It was a suicide mission.”  
“It still is.” Rose counters sharply. “There’s simply two who will die now, instead of one. That’s the only difference.”  
“Could’ve been one if you’d let me fly this damn thing solo.” Dave meets her eyes. “Why didn’t you.”

Rose pauses before she answers.

“Because I am selfish.”  
“Am I missing something here because I don’t see what’s selfish about voluntary self-sacrifice.”  
“Perhaps I had hoped, just once, to spend time in your company without having to watch you die.”

A moment of silence falls between them. She tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Dave stares at her, but she’s turned away from him again, so he does the same.

“I’m sorry.” He says, no longer able to bear the quiet.  
“I know. So am I.” Her words come out strained, and Dave recognizes the sound of held back tears.

Dave grits his teeth, hurting with the need to soothe her. He wants so desperately to brush his thumb across her cheek, to whisper in her hair that it’s OK for her to cry, but he doesn’t. He wonders if kissing her would make a difference.

Maybe, if they had more time, he would’ve tried. He might’ve told her how her voice holds his heartstrings, how he’d be lost without her light to guide the way. Maybe there could have been love, and maybe her smile wouldn’t sound like regret, but Dave stands empty-handed, with no more than seconds to spare. Seconds that are running out.

He has to say something, anything, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The realization sends him into an unwelcome memory of when the two of them first sacrificed themselves for the sake of a prosperous session- He couldn’t say anything back then, either. The knowledge of having nothing to bring her but an uncertain future had kept him silent, right up until the moment he disappeared back into the past. The memories are all a bit jumbled.

At least he doesn’t have to leave her, this time.

And while Dave still has nothing to offer her, nothing that would make things right, when he reaches out for her hand, Rose takes it. She feels like marble to his fingers; her skin is cool, but her grip is frail. Her breath hitches as if it tripped, and Dave wants to look at her again, but he’s afraid. He hears a quiet, suppressed sob and he knows he has to do _something_ , but he’s terrified to see her cry, terrified of meeting his end with her tears fresh in his mind. He holds her hand a bit tighter.

He wants to kiss her, but he doesn’t.

It’s too late now, and when the timer hits zero, Dave feels fairly certain it never would have worked between them (at all).

**-fin**


End file.
